A flock of owls enters level two. Each one as common looking as the other- each with a letter attached. The owls deliver a letter to each desk in the auror department. They are all written on small scraps of parchment- unsigned, and many come with home developed photos attached- all taken from outside of windows or from on the street.

Cameron Rosier

A look into your future...

(A photo of the previous head of the DMLE Gawain Robards with a bite taken out of it.)

Tamis Raynor

You haven't been able to save them yet... how many are you going to allow to die?

(A list of his victims is attached, as well as prophet clippings about the attacks/deaths.)

Samuel Harcroft

You won't live next time.

Honorious Stilicho

The death eaters got your wife. I guess that leaves the son to me.

Archer Radley

School's out soon.

(Attached is a stuffed animal that Dugan has stolen from Winifred's room.)

Aberdeen Spencer

He doesn't even know who his mummy is anymore.

(Attached is a photo of Cin & Robin with a bland background that gives no clues to the hideout.)

Adon Eleor

Want me to give your mother a set of matching scars?

(Attached is a picture of Adon's mother.)

Amile Vaillancourt

Do you know where your parents are?

(Attached is a photo of her parents.)

Berkely Cavanaugh

You'll never live up to the family name, doll. Especially not after I finish the job on your father.

(Attached is a photo of a werewolf.)

Chalmers Holt

It's your fault your dad left. It'll be your fault again when your mom dies.

Charlene Malone

I bet your lover boy is ready to take his beater's bat to your current roommate. Maybe he'll find me there instead.

(Attached is a photo of Charlene & Hunter together.)

Daphne Depardieu

I'll come when you're home alone. And nobody will come- not even when you scream.

(Attached is a photo of where Daphne lives.)

Edward Pratt

I warned you once and you didn't listen. Going to make that mistake again?

(Attached is the photo of Ed's wife/children.)

Jonas Trevelyan

I might make a mating exception for this mudblood.

(Attached is a photo of Jonas' wife.)

Nathaniel Whitman

We already know that wolves can find their way to Hogwarts...

(Attached is a photo of Myrni)

Tarelin Faust

Do you have the guts to finish training? Ask Pratt how it feels to lose your parents.

(Attached is a bludger.)

Macduff would be disappointed if he knew Sam's reaction to the letter. specifically, he threw it onto his desk and grabbed a pen, adding another mark to the tally chart he kept of the death threats he had received. "stupid idiot's up for another round?"he muttered to himself[1]

1.	remember, he's driven off Macduff once by this point. he's not going to be too worried about him.

Jonas had been back in the Auror Office for nearly three months now, but he still wasn't getting nearly as much mail as his colleagues.  Most of their official investigation contacts communicated directly with Adon, and all of his unofficial off-the-record informants knew better than to owl him at the office.  As a result, sorting through the day's mail delivery took much less time than it ever had back when he was a private investigator; he usually had everything read, filed, and thrown away in the time it took his partner to get through a quarter of his stack.

The Auror had been sitting at his desk, feet propped up on the waste bin, as he attempted to whistle a television theme from the night before.  The song, which involved rhythmic beats as much as discernible melodies and included plenty of alien-like sound effects, was taking up far more of his focus than it probably should have, and as such, he barely paid attention when he tore open the crudely addressed envelope and pulled out the note.

Jonas's stomach dropped as he stared at the photograph.  Its movements were uneven and jerky, as if it hadn't been developed with properly-brewed potions, but there was no way to mistake the subject.  Anna, dressed in one of the suits that she usually wore to work, pulled open the door of her car and climbing inside, completely heedless of the photographer who was obviously standing on the opposite side of the street. 

For the first few seconds, it was impossible to do anything but breath.  Jonas stared at the photograph, his eyes moving slowly over it, and then carefully set it down on the table.  With slow, deliberate movements, he unfolded the note, keeping his fingers on the edges as he read over it silently.

Logically, there was no reason to panic.  Macduff had already established that he had a pattern of sending threats, and Jonas had supposed that it was only a matter of time before he was included on the list.  Just because the terrorist -- if that was who had sent it, though it seemed probable -- had taken a picture of Anna didn't mean he had access to her now, after they'd set up all of the extra magical precautions.  And even if it seemed like he did, there were certainly other measures that they could take.

Absently, Jonas grabbed a sheet of parchment, tearing off a strip and folding it in half around the photograph, envelope, and note so that he wouldn't touch the paper.  He could deal with this methodically.  First, call Anna -- though charging up to the street so that he could get mobile reception probably wasn't the smartest move, not when Macduff knew that he'd likely get his spam this morning. 

Modified plan, then.  First, get backup.  Next, check in with his wife.  Then come up with a way to hit the bloody murderous bastard so hard that he'd wish he was merely sending the Auror Office junk mail for some stupid advance-fee scam out of Nigeria.

"Houdini?" Jonas called inquisitively over to his partner's desk.  His voice was perfectly calm and even -- likely too calm for so early in the day, considering what most in the Auror office had learned about his morning habits.  He strode quickly over to Ed Pratt's desk, normal limp partially minimized by the purposeful speed of his gait.

"Ed?  You got a minute?" he asked, leaning an arm casually on the wall of the other Auror's cubicle.  Cool, calm, collected.  There was no reason to panic yet.  "Reckon I could use a hand."

Tarelin was flicking through his well-thumbed copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula when the morning post arrived, leaning on his minuscule desk with both elbows as he propped the paperback in front of his face. As a trainee, Tarelin hadn't yet graduated to a standard desk, working with what reminded him of the desks at Hogwarts. Hearing the flapping of wings, he looked up from the text in time to see a mass of owls descending on the Aurors. There were a lot, even for a busy day, and even more confusingly they were not the Auror's usual birds...

The trainee's post landed on his desk with a dull THUD, shaking it a little. A square parcel wrapped in brown paper sat in front of Tarelin, a hand-written note tucked underneath the string that held the package together. Putting down the book, he took the note from the string and began to read. It was short, taking only a second to understand, but a minute to sink in.

Do you have the guts to finish training? Ask Pratt how it feels to lose your parents.

Tarelin stared at the note for a few minutes, blinking as he read it over and over. He could hardly believe what it said. Finally, he snapped back to reality, hastily flipping the note over. Nothing on the back, and no sign of who had sent it. Glancing around the room, it seemed that all the other Aurors all had received an owl. Turning his attention slowly back to his parcel, Tarelin pulled it towards him with great hesitation, swallowing hard. It almost looked like the young man was expecting some kind of explosive as he carefully untied the string and pulled apart the folds of the brown paper. Tarelin let the wrapping fall away before lifting the lid of the box.

Staring back at Tarelin from the box was a cast-iron ball, a little under 10 inches in diameter. Tarelin recognised it as a bludger, one of the three types of balls from Quidditch. Instantly, he knew what this was about, the note had made it clear enough: his parents had been injured in a quidditch incident involving a bludger, and it was caring for them which had delayed his training.

Reaching into the box and lifting the ball from inside, Tarelin could feel its weight, the cold iron freezing his already cold skin. The bludger felt impossibly heavy, and Tarelin couldn't help wonder if this was the same ball from that game. For a good three minutes, Tarelin stares at the ball, turning it in his hands. Finally, he remembered the name mentioned in his note, and his eyes turned to Edward Pratt, sat a few desks over.

Ask Pratt how it feels to lose your parents... He knew what had happened to Edward's parents, the entire office did. Should he ask? He doubted it would be wise, but if the sender had something to do with it... Tarelin still held the ball aloft, his arms having moved to rest like they'd done with the book, as he fixed his gaze on Pratt, unaware that he was, in fact, staring, lost in thought.

Bright green eyes stared down at the parchment held out before them as Edward Pratt read the scripture upon them for the tenth time. It still didn’t become less real. It didn’t make any more sense. There was certainly no doubting who had sent the owl to him, who had attached the picture with it. Eddie glanced at that in his other hand. It was Quincy a few months ago shuffling down diagon alley with the dawdling kids in tow and an unborn baby in her belly, giving her an ungraceful yet confident waddle.

Pratt was so consumed in his own building anger that he had failed to notice the rest of the owls delivering mail to his colleagues. Instead he was quickly trying to decide how to contact his ex-wife to make sure she was okay and she was being extra careful without alerting this murderous wizard as to where she and his precious children were. Eddie couldn’t lose them as well. It was one thing his parents being killed, but if he indirectly caused the death of his own children it would kill him, Eddie would be following them shortly after. Now quitting didn’t seem like such a ridiculous idea.

The remaining unopened letters in the pile on his desk were left forgotten as a voice broke Ed’s concentration and drew his alert eyes from the parchment. Trevelyan looks paler than usual, a shocking contrast to the obnoxiously coloured mess of hair atop his head.

“Now ‘ent great, Paddy.” The auror gruffly muttered as he quietly read from the parchment. “I warned you once and you didn't listen. Going to make that mistake again?” The letter was placed on the table and above of it Ed placed the photograph, his eyes glancing over Noah and Natasha dragging their feet behind Quincy while they fought over a small bag of sweets.

“Apparently the bastard ‘ent had enough.”

Amilč had come into work perfectly on time. Not late, not early. On the dot, just as she always did. The French woman was always late for everything else in her life, but her job was the most important factor to her at the moment. Especially since she had just graduated from training. The red-headed auror slipped through the desks and reached hers fairly quickly. Being the youngest Auror, she got the smallest desk and it usually didn’t have much on it. If Amilč was nothing else, she was organized and meticulous. All of the papers she had acquired upon graduation were sorted, filed, and easy to find with a single flick of her wand.

She frowned when her big eyed barn owl came in and let a letter fall on her desk. She stroked the bird’s feathers and gave it a small treat before watching her fly off. The envelope was not from work and not from home. It wasn’t from anyone that she knew. She had memorized the types of envelopes people sent her. She noticed that everyone else in the office had matching envelopes lying on their desks, even Tarelin, who was the senior Trainee. The red-head frowned and opened the letter pulling out the two objects. She looked at the picture of her parents. Now she was royally confused. Her eyes shifted to the small note attached to the picture.

Do you know where your parents are?

The picture was of her parents in their living room. The picture was obviously taken from outside as there were the lines in the glass apparent in the photograph. The two of them were smiling at each other and then her father glanced around the room and stood up, taking Nette by the hand. The two went out the door and the photo went black. Then it repeated.
Amilč stared at the photo. Her mind whirled. Where were they? She hadn’t seen them in a few weeks, having gone over for lunch with her mother and cousin in mid-April. True, she could sometimes see them around the ministry, but she hadn’t for a bit.
 
The young woman felt her heart clutch and she resisted the urge to leap out of HQ and apparate to her parent’s house.
She looked around her at the other Aurors and saw various degrees of shock on their faces. She tried to put on her poker face, but she couldn’t help the tremors that were running through her fingertips. She didn’t know who it was from, but maybe one of the others did.

She turned to Trevelyan and Pratt, both looking slightly off. “Do you know who this is from? I don’t.” Her voice was flat, but she knew there was a troubled spark in her dark eyes.

That hadn't entirely been the supportive response he'd been looking for.  Jonas paused, his mouth half-opened to protest, and then carefully shut it as the other Auror read aloud.  I warned you once... 

So it wasn't just him.  And evidently, it wasn't just Pratt, either.  Jonas frowned, glancing up sharply to regard the French girl who spoke up next, his forehead creasing as he digested her words, took in her expression.  He didn't know the younger Aurors in the office very well yet; most of them blended somewhere between 'colleague' and 'trainee.'  As far as he knew, this one had yet to be approached by Macduff.  It was one thing for him and Pratt to get threats; they'd both interacted with the terrorist before.  Apparently the bastard had decided it was time to widen his circle.

Jonas hesitated for an instant, gripping his own papers tightly, hand clenched at his side.  Now that the threat had become less personal, now that it was directed at people beyond him, his instinct was to tuck it away out of sight.  No one else needed to know what his perceived weaknesses were; he could deal with the situation quietly himself, and no one at the Ministry would be the wiser.

But that wouldn't help Pratt.  That wouldn't help the French kid -- Vaillancourt.  The entire office felt like it had been teetering on the edge since Fox had quit, and all it would take was one tear for the seams to start ripping apart.  As much as he might prefer to avoid confessing his weaknesses, this needed to be public.  If they were going to keep their sanity and their professionalism through these personal attacks, then it couldn't be personal.  They had to treat it as an investigation.

Pratt had already laid out Exhibit A.  With all the cool ease of a poker player revealing his hand, Jonas stepped forward, setting first the handwritten threat and then the photograph of Anna carefully down on the table, taking care not to touch beyond the edges as he arranged them in line with Pratt's display.

"Reckon Macduff has got a bit too much free time on his hands," he remarked easily, crossing his arms as he stepped back.  "Though I can't say much for his timely photography skills.  Ed, I think yours is a bit out of date."

He glanced back at the rest of the office.  So far they had three.  It was possible that there were more.

"Anyone else happen to get any interesting mail?" he asked casually, raising his voice so that it would carry over the cubicles.

"Anyone else happen to get any interesting mail?"

The words brought Tarelin back to reality. Turning his gaze to the side a fraction, Tarelin saw that it was Jonas Trevelyan who had spoken. The young trainee found it easy enough to recognise Trevelyan's voice - the two shared an accent, both having been born in the same town. Unsure whether he should speak or not, Tarelin waited for a moment before hesitantly raising his hand.

"I did." Tarelin's voice was somewhat faint, getting caught in his throat before it could fully leave his mouth. Standing, he tucked the bludger under his arm and grabbed the note before heading over to where Edward, Jonas and Amilč were huddled together, moving at a half-run. They weren't far away, but Tarelin didn't fancy staying in public view for long. The air in the office was tense, almost like a Manticore was smashing up the room but no one was willing to acknowledge it.

Now that he was over here, however, Tarelin wasn't sure what to do. for a second, he paused, before balancing the bludger carefully on the edge of Edward's desk, supporting it with his free hand and handing the note to Jonas. "This note was sent to me, along with this." I tapped the bludger lightly, creating a sharp DINGing sound in the process. "I think I know what it means - The bludger, that is. The note also mentioned..." His eyes flickered in Edward's direction as his voice trailed off, deciding that it might not be best to get into that just yet. One problem at a time.

Berkeley hated owls.

The bloody beasts were a menace and she had specific instructions for all her mail to either be delivered in person or through the nice neat and organized system of the paper airplanes that fluttered constantly through the entire Ministry. So it was not a welcomed surprised when the foul creature landed on her desk and dropped off it's letter. She shooed it away, her cherry blossom lips pulling into a scowl. The darn thing had knocked over a container of quills. Perhaps it wasn't happy with her using feathers as writing instruments.

Before she paid even the slightest bit of attention to the letter she picked up the container straightened it into it's usual spot and carefully placed all five quills back inside making sure they were properly arranged by colour, lightest to darkest. After a quick glance to make sure nothing else on her desk had been distrubed she ripped open the letter.

A crimson flush rose to her porcelain cheeks. She stared long and hard at the photograph that had been slipped in behind the note. She didn't recognize the werewolf. Which meant it wasn't her father. Was it perhaps the man who had made the threat in the first place? She turned her attention back to the letter and a horrible chill ran down her spine, so fierce she actually stoof from her desk. Unlike the other threats that had been floating around the office, to which she had yet to take notice, Berkeley's was doubled.

Whoever sent it had touched on two very sensitive subjects. The first being that barely anyone in the Auror Corp took the pint sized doll of a witch seriously and the other was a very blatant threat against her father who had been a magnificant Auror until he was turned into a werewolf during the Battle for Hogwarts.

Hearing Jonas' question she walked directly to Eddie's desk and put down the photo neglecting to show the others what had been written to her, "I don't recognize him." She brought her ice blue eyes up to look at Jonas, whom she knew had dealt with the currently most wanted werewolf before, "Is that what MacDuff looks like during a full moon?"

Honorius sat at his desk as he read through the Daily Prophet. He had learned long ago that keeping on top of the news, both national and international, was a very useful thing. He skipped anything he deemed unimportant, sport reports, star signs and that rubbish. Also anything about the Muggle World, meeting with their Prime Minister, and the like were also skipped over or very quickly skimmed without paying much attention. Nothing interesting had happened since he fell asleep the night before so he put the paper down and took a sip from the cup beside him.

As she did an Owl appeared. As it dropped a letter on his desk Honorius barely acknowledged the creature or the message but started to flip through the large pile of paper work, reports and watch lists that were beside his desk. The Auror office seemed to pick up activity within seconds. It went from early morning slog to Auror's discussing something across the room. He heard the voice of Jonas and he realised he had an unread letter. His interest grew and he extended his bony hand and examined the letter before opening it.

The death eaters got your wife. I guess that leaves the son to me.

His eyes widened, they already seemed to big for his gaunt head, his lips curled and anger rose inside him. His son meant everything to him and someone was threatening him! The Auror began to make a list of his enemies, but he soon realised that the last was virtually endless. Before he joined in the conversation with the other Aurors Honroius grabbed a quill and wrote, in perfect hand writing, a letter to his mother.

Mother,

When you receive this letter take my son and leave the house. Go to the Golden Beach until I contact you again.

Honorius XV

The letter was penned so only his mother would know where to take his son. The XV proved it was Honorius.

Honorius was furious, but his face remained as stoic and cold as ever. Inside he was planning on how he could torture the person who sent this message. Being an Auror he had to follow certain rules but he had already threw them out the window to avenge his father. He didn't want the culprit arrested. He wanted him dead. He didn't care what happened to him when it was over; as long as his son was safe.

He stood and moved toward the growing group of Aurors. "The culprit should be caught as soon as possible. I believe that a team should be put together to investigate this with the powers needed to bring the person responsible to justice."

Daphne worked silently at her desk, as was her daily ritual. No interference, no involvement with the others: Chalmers was the only Auror Daphne welcomed a response from, and even then, he was far too soft-hearted for Level Two. Crossing one leg over the other, her blonde hair was loosely pinned back; it made a change from her perfectly curled cascades of pristine, unnervingly structured locks. Coincidentally, it was the first day in which Daphne's face was fully revealed, her stone-cold glare on sight for all to witness - and there was no chance of Daphne masquerading her emotions.

A brigade of owls flew into the heavens of the office, Daphne immediately glancing up at the abnormally large number. Of course, Aurors received much mail in the guise of case files, witness statements, regulation forms and the like, but this amount of personal correspondence was a rare event indeed. An envelope fluttered down, finding itself on Daphne's desk. Tearing it open methodically, Daphne sighed, brown eyes falling upon the documents within. She froze. The magical photo Macduff had presented showed Daphne briskly walking towards her flat, unlocking the door and letting herself inside, lingering for a few moments as the French-born Auror milled around inside, turning on lights, taking off her jacket, collapsing onto the sofa. Hell, only a handful of her colleagues knew her permanent residence, so Merlin knew just exactly how and why somebody had obtained such a photo.

Getting to her feet, Daphne glanced around, seeing the majority of the office experiencing a similar reaction: unnerved, perturbed, disturbed or confused. Her cold voice wavered a little as she felt the urge to read her personalised message aloud: "I'll come when you're home alone. And nobody will come... not even when you scream." Daphne could handle herself just as much as the next Auror, but this?

This was terrifying.

Samuel joined the crowd forming due to the owls. "Honorius, I quite agree with you. Macduff has done too much. but first, we need to know who he's threatening and figure out a way to protect them." Sam said, face grim. "everyone, can you make a list of those threatened? And someone call Head Auror Raynor." Sam added. He hadn't been too worried about the threat to him, but it was clear other Aurors were receiving threats to their families. He was angry.

[Warning for Strong language]

Before he knew it the entrance to his cubicle was overly populated with unwanted company. As Charlene’s trainee approached, Eddie’s eyes glazed over the bludger with mild suspicion before he looked down to the offerings Jonas had placed on his desk. And the letters didn’t stop there.

They kept coming after the red head’s announcement to the office. MacDuff hadn’t just singled one official out this time. He’d mass harassed their department with personal threats apparently. The prospect infuriated Eddie but not as much as the recurring threat on his own family. They were away, in hiding, but what did that mean? There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Eddie considered their wellbeing and debated leaving the office and apparating to them there and then. But to his infuriation, he and Trevelyan had attracted quite the unwanted gathering.

Pratt, making no attempt to hide the building emotions as he stared in disbelief at Harcroft. “Are you actually takin’ the piss, Harcroft?” A vulgar expletive escaped past Ed’s lips as he snatched up the picture of his children. “This is your fuckin’ man hunt!” The blonde auror, anger beginning to engulf his senses, rose from his chair, ignoring every colleague but one. The ignorant idiot that had just spoken.

“Done too much eh?” Pratt let out a harsh laugh. “Too damn right he ‘as! My folks are dead because of him. I had to bury them a few weeks back and you” a finger was jabbed in Harcroft’s direction, “you couldn’t even find a 17 year old boy.” Instead Pratt and Malone had found Gibson dead in the sea. “I wanna’ know why the hell Raynor’s tasked you with this. My entire family’s gonna’ be dead by the time you get off yer lazy arse!” Next the threatening letter was snatched up between his fingers. “But it’s personal for you now ‘ent it, Harcroft? Pratt’s family gets threatened, they get killed, and who gives a friggin’ damn? But yer interested now, ent ya? Now he’s made a play at you! Ye’ve been assigned on this case for weeks and you wait until now to decide to do summit’. What an incompetent, selfish moron you are!”

The blond auror’s arms flew up as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ ridiculous, Harcroft!” Ed turned and sarcastically addressed the other senior auror of the crowd. “And what a revolutionary idea, Stilicho. I can’t believe no-one’s considered it before! Now I’m certain ye deserve yer puffed up little title!”

With the angry outburst completed and the items he’d received gripped tightly in his hand, Eddie pushed past the gathering at his cubicle entrance. He was damn well going to make sure their new boss knew all about this.

Chalmers Holt had been in the break room when the owls arrived.  The need for caffeine had driven him to the coffee.  After his cup, he headed out, and heard some yelling.  People in the office all seemed incredibly upset about something.  Slowly, he made his way back to his desk, and saw a letter lying there on top of all his papers.  For a moment he wondered if it was something everyone got, to cause the despair.  Perhaps some new office rule?

When he opened the letter, he realized he was quite wrong.  No, not some new office rule, but it was something that may have been delivered to all aurors.   He’d been given a threat.  A threat on his mother’s life.  Chalmers would like to believe that he could deal with threats made to him on his life.  But his mother? That was another story.  He closed his fist around the paper and headed to the other clump of aurors that was starting to form.

When he got there, Edward Pratt was picking apart Samuel Harcroft.  It was now he found out exactly who sent the notes. Most of what he said did sound a little true to Chalmers’ ears, but he stayed silent for now.  Pratt did have the most right out of everyone there to be that angry about the letters.  And considering what had recently happened to Eddie’s parents, Chalmers was even more worried about his mom. 

As much as he wanted to apparate to her house that instant, he had to make sure they could get together a plan.  All of the aurors most likely got one of the letters, including a couple who were still in training.  If they all ran off to make sure they and their loved ones were safe, it would not be good for the department.  Chalmers would go later and make sure every safety charm he knew would be put up around his mom’s house.  But he knew he had to stay here for now.

“I don’t mean to be the obvious one, but we’ve got to get together safety measures for everyone threatened.  And teams for protection.  We know what he can do, and can’t take this lightly.  And we need to make sure this is where his torturing ends.”

Honorius' eye brows raised when one of his colleges called him by his first name. It was not right, not normal, these people were not his friends. They were fellow Aurors and that is all. However he knew there were more important things to be getting on with. He was sure most of the Aurors wanted to leave and protect their loved ones themselves. However Honorius knew his mother was more than able to handle herself. He would visit her son latter tonight but he doubted he would see his son in the next few weeks as he would be working to track down the filthy Werewolf.

Edward Pratt was soon up and at 'em as they say. His anger was directed at Samuel and Honorius felt rightly so.  As a general rule he didn't get involved in other Auror's tasks. As long as he left them alone he would leave them to get on with there case. But his failure, as there was no other way to look at it, had put his son in danger. And many innocent family members from each Auror's family. Although Honorius agreed with Pratt he disagreed with the way he exploded. He seemed unable to control his emotions. Men who wore their heart on their sleeves were fools.

“And what a revolutionary idea, Stilicho. I can’t believe no-one’s considered it before! Now I’m certain ye deserve yer puffed up little title!”

In retaliation Honorius simply blinked at the man as he stormed off like a petulant school girl; at least he had used his family name. Honorius was rather sure that he was leaving to alert either the Head Auror or the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. He would prefer the Aurors to handle the matter, they didn't need any help from above.

“I don’t mean to be the obvious one, but we’ve got to get together safety measures for everyone threatened.  And teams for protection.  We know what he can do, and can’t take this lightly.  And we need to make sure this is where his torturing ends.”

"I agree Holt. Harcroft said a list should be created of the threatened and I agree. Safe houses should be set up and we need volunteers to be put on security detail."